~~~Chapter 17 ~ Thickening
Binne was their leader and as such he never expected his charges to do anything he hadn’t already done himself first. See? In some ways he was soddin’ noble. He hated the words like minions and fledges. That was tradition and he wanted no part of it. He had tradition shoved down his throat and beaten across his back too many times to want anything to do with it. Besides, he thought, minions and fledges carried with them the idea of a kind of a contract…you take care of me and I’ll take care of you. Well, he didn’t want anything to do with that either. Up until not so terrible long ago he was part of a pair.
Two only. That was enough, he thought. They watched each others back and grifted together. Him and Fiona done all right that way but now he was alone and the thought of joinin’ up with any of these losers sickened him. So, what were they then? Employees? He snickered to himself. If one dusted, no loss. It only meant there were more spoils to go around. The plan was brilliant and he only needed them long enough to help him test out the plan…work out the kinks using their worthless hides with less danger to himself.
Patience. That was the real brick and mortar of his plan. Hell, they had all the time in the world, didn’t they? Back when he got this job, he was down on his luck. There were some hard times. After Fiona was gone he hooked up with a gang that made their way here from Ireland and the pickings were few and far between, mostly because the one who called himself Master was a dolt. So Binne took off on his own…figured it was better that way, and then he saw an ad in the paper for guards at a new girls school. Turned out they weren’t looking for muscle. What they really wanted were gentlemen who would really take an interest in the girls and their safety. Mr. Giles wanted everyone to take a personal interest in the school and he was hiring older fellows, mostly widowed and living alone who missed contact with their own children. He could do that! Patience.
It was fuckin’ genius. He was an old man when he was turned and had been a vampire a good long while and now, at last, he had it made. What better life? Immortal, regular meals and pretty young things to look at…taste…and more if things went the way he wanted. Things had gone well so far. Some anemia among the locals…nobody remembered the bite…or the fuck… and if they did, they weren’t telling. He laughed. He hadn’t got any in years, now he fucked regular even if it was with a limp fish…it was still better than a wank anyday. It was a kind god indeed who gave the vampire thrall. Yeah…patience. Take your time old man…and everything falls into place.
One by one he turned the others. Nobody missed them. Now he had an even dozen…and they all worked at the school. He needed to take care and be mindful not to get his victims mixed up…didn’t want that anemia to become a problem. He might even start keeping records of who was drained when and establish a rotation schedule. He laughed as he thought they were doing so well and they hadn’t even tested the waters with the girls at the school yet. The school was his primary goal. The school with its closed campus and isolation …and if one school was perfect, maybe one day they could branch out to others. If something did go amiss it would be relatively easy to contain. Ah, ah, ah…Binne m’boy…don’t be getting grand ideas now.
He grew pensive. The thing was…these girls were different. He didn’t understand how exactly…strong …mystical.
Even working evening and night hours when no one was about, it was hard to find out what it was that made school any different from other girls schools. He poked around plenty but he could never find anything.
Tonight he was going to make the first contact with one of the girls… find out if they were susceptible to thrall. He felt skittish about it; he didn’t know why, but something … something….
He circled around to the front of Tudor Hall and checked that there were no cars parked around the building. Sometimes one of the teachers would hold evening club meetings at the dorm and occasionally the students had visitors…although it was after 9 p.m. and it was against the rules. Still, he needed to make sure…..Good…all clear.
He unlocked the door to the lobby, walked in and heard girls chattering and music playing down the hall. He went the other way….toward the parlor, really just a room that used to be an office, now it was the room where the girls were allowed to accept visitors. Only one light was on and there in the dim light, curled in one of the cushy armchairs was Jemima Armstrong… alone.
What luck, he thought….now he could make his roster alphabetical as a wide grin spread across his face.
The girl looked up from the book she was reading, “Mr. Binnemon, what are you doing here?”
“Miss Armstrong…are you the one who called about a prowler?” he said in his most protective and grandfatherly voice…
~~~
Spike was in that netherworld between sleep and wakefulness comforted by the warmth of his slayer and thoughts of possibilities. He sensed it was close to sunrise, and instinctively he became more alert. He contemplated how Buffy might react to him in the full light of day but for now he was content to rest in this WWII blackout shaded room (he couldn’t help but smile) with his arms around her until she woke.
Abruptly, the serenity was vanquished by an official sounding version of “God Save the Queen” blaring from a radio somewhere in the house. Buffy startled and thrashed about the bed for a moment gaining her equilibrium when she realized she wasn’t alone. She jumped from the bed, quite literally and grabbed the sheets with her as she backed away from the bed. In her flailing, she’d managed to smack Spike square in the nose with all her slayer strength. He grabbed his face and yelled “Oi!’ as he fell out of the other side of the bed not in the least concerned about his nakedness as blood poured from his nose.
Buffy was screaming, not the high pitched, blood curdling scream one associates with scenes from horror films. No, there was nothing dainty or girlish about Buffy’s scream. It was more of a harsh sounding war cry that wreaked terror in the hearts of any demon or vampire within 20 kilometers, AND wild life, insects or any living creature. Spike responded in kind…and there they stood screaming at each other, eyes ablaze.
Spike reached for the light.
Buffy, hoarse from the scream, yelled, “I saw that. Don’t move, whatever you are!” as she reached and yanked the finial from the headboard and came away with a sharp pointed stake with a well polished pineapple carved at the other end, “I’m armed.”
The light went on just as Spike was yelling, “Bloody hell woman, have you gone mad?” trying to be heard over the blaring anthem.
She let out another war whoop, this time in shock, for before her stood her soul mate. This was not how she imagined their reunion. She had a mental picture of a slight head tilt and brilliant blue eyes gazing at her full of love above a fully clothed vampire. Maybe even some music in the background, certainly not the news, weather, jingles and “God Save the Bloody Queen” on a British radio station.
This one had blood dripping from his nose smearing whatever parts of his naked self he touched in his scuffle and his climb onto the bed to get closer. His face was screwed up in an expression forged somewhere between love, hate, rage, disbelief and…. terror …as he tried to keep his equilibrium on the very old, very soft, very springy mattress and spring set.. “For the love of …Buffy, it’s me! I know things were a bit dodgey between us when we parted, but you did say you loved me. Had a change of heart then, have you?”
The sight of him standing there in all his Michaelangelo’s David perfect body glory with his Willie dancing as he tried to balance, she finally caved and started to laugh, “Oh God, I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I’m still in the institution and everything is fantasy… making my dreams my reality.” The laughing stopped and abruptly turned to tears as she wrapped her arms around herself and rocked in despair.
Spike ran his forearm across his nose to wipe the blood and climbed off the bed to approach her slowly…warily. He hesitated as he placed his hand on her shoulder. In a voice barely above a whisper, he said “Buffy,”…, it’s me….”as he reached to take the stake from her hand. She jerked away from the touch.
She lifted her head, shook her hair and threw her shoulders back as she steeled herself against this fantasy.
“No, you’re not!” she said and dropped the sheet as she began to walk around the bed.
Spike stopped her and put both hands on her shoulders, turned her to him and looked her square in the eye, or at least tried to…she averted his gaze and tried to pass around him. “No, Slayer, not after what you said last night. I’m holding you to your word this time. I know you meant it.”
Buffy lifted her eyes to meet his and she was able to see his soul in that deep pool of blue, filled with love. There was no bottom. “You called me Slayer….. Spike? Spike, can this be true?” still shaking her head, “It can’t be true. You were lost in the Hellmouth forever.” As her knees gave way, Spike wrapped her in his arms and sat her down on the bed. They rocked together saying nothing. It was she who broke the silence when she asked, “How? When?”
There they were, the very questions he had no good answers for. He so didn’t want to go there. It was the whole reason he didn’t try to find her sooner. What could he say to her that wouldn’t hurt her? Make her angry?…and not sound like a lie?
Spike filled his lungs with air as he prepared to speak. “Always been an impulse kind of guy….well, not always – always…but you know what I mean. Sometimes it worked for me…got me what I wanted…what I needed. Sometimes it got me in a whole lot of shit. Yeah?” He paused and looked at her trying to gain the strength he needed to go on. “Buffy, I love you. I know you know that so please…”
“Spike….if you are Spike,” Buffy interrupted. “Tell me. How is this possible?” she pleaded. “Please convince me I’m not insane.”
So, he told her the sometimes amusing, sometimes tragic tale of his reincarnation, Buffy stared at him. Stared at him so hard and so long that he became uncomfortable. The kind of staring that makes you wonder if you have something stuck on your teeth…or worse. Not able to stand it anymore, he just came out with an aggravated, “What?”
“If…and understand this is a big IF, I believe you, it means you’ve been back since three months after we closed the Hellmouth?”
He nodded, “Yeah, more or less…”
She rephrased, sounding more like his Slayer every minute, “You’ve been back for two years?”
He nodded again, “Somethin’ like…maybe a little longer.” He realized what was coming one nanosecond too late.
Buffy hauled off with a roundhouse right straight to his nose! “Oi! That hurts!” he yelled as he licked at
the blood dripping toward his lip. “…always my doze! Why does it always have to be my doze?”
Buffy gave him a handful of tissues and said, “I’m sorry! It’s the one thing I knew you’d understand. That’s all I have to say on the subject! Consider it closed!”
~~~~
They shared stories of their time apart over a leisurely breakfast of toast and tea interrupted only by long, slow wet kisses. For all and all, Buffy led a very normal girly life since Sunnydale fell. She admitted she missed the occasional apocalypse, but patrolling with the young slayers was fun. She got to be really bossy and she knew she was always at her best when she was bossy. That got some snickers from Spike. Then she told him she was teaching the girls the techniques that he taught the first potentials and made sure they knew the lessons drawn up for them were written by a Master Vampire…HER Master Vampire, who chose to fight on the side of good. She paused and waited for him to raise his eyes to hers. When their eyes met, she said, “I was so proud of you….” After a moment she wiped her eyes, laughed and said…”I AM proud of you!”
There were stories of what Dawn was up to and what was happening with Willow and Oz. Buffy thought it was funny that they always link their names. They’re not…linked, that is, but they do work well together when he’s around. The rest of the time he travels the country trying to be a musician and yes, he still lives in his van.
When the conversation made its way to Dawn, Buffy jumped and said, “Oh Geez! I’m in big trouble!”
Spike gave her a confused look.
“I forgot to call Dawn to let her know I arrived safely.”
“Ah!” Spike nodded. “You ARE in trouble. Bit is a force to be reckoned with. You’d better call right now.”
“Right. What time is it?”
Spike tried to answer, but Buffy kept running on. “OK, it’s 5:20 here which makes it somewhere around noon/1 o’clock there. That’s good. I’ll call her on her cell…she always has it with her.” She was talking as she rushed around the cottage looking for her purse and her own cell phone to speed dial the number. She was quiet for a minute listening for a ring as she climbed onto Spike’s lap and ran her fingers through his hair as he possessively wound his arms around her waist. Then she nodded and smiled and silently mouthed the word “ringing.”
“Oh, damn. It’s going over to voice mail. I should leave a message. She’ll want to know that you’re here!” Buffy said.
“Yeah, and she’ll think you’re off your nutter. We should wait to tell her until she can see me in the flesh.”
“Are you crazy? We don’t have any idea how soon that will be. She will kill me if she found out you were with me and I didn’t tell her.”
“You think? …Yeah, I suppose you’re right. OK. We wait to tell her until we can both talk to her. Agreed?” Spike smiled.
“Agreed.” Buffy closed her phone and put it back in her bag.
What neither of them realized was that the whole time they were arguing they were recording a voice message. It may be a bit garbled, but Dawn was in for a big surprise.
~~~
Out of the blue, Spike commented his nose was feeling a little better and Buffy gave him a puzzled look and after a moment, she had an inkling of where he was going with his comment and said, “Um…didn’t I say the subject was closed?”
“Yeah,” he said, drawing out the single syllable, “you did, but maybe I’m not ready to close it.”
She blinked at him and said, “What’s there to talk about? You came back and then your body came back and you didn’t call me or try to contact me and today I find out that you even swore Andrew to secrecy, for which, by the way, I am so going to hurt him. What? You want me to punish you some more? The bloody nose wasn’t enough?” She stood up and spread her legs slightly apart as though she were bracing herself for a little rough and tumble without the nice ending. She was on a roll. “OK then, I’m ready….”
He wore that self-satisfied, look of certainty that he was so good at that said, “You lose” before he even opened his mouth. She held her ground, but looked guarded. “So,” she said, “out with it. What’s on your mind.”
He sighed and said, “Well, I did try to contact you.”
“You did not!” she said, “I’ve been dying inside ever since you….died!…Don’t you go trying to turn this around, mister.”
He answered, “I cannot deny that I didn’t do it in a timely manner. Of that I am guilty and you have every right to your self righteous attitude.”
“Damn right I do,” she chimed in.
“However,… I did try to find you in Rome,” Spike said. Buffy looked wary. “Went to your place and Andrew led me to believe that you were heavily involved with a man…well, the man part, that’s a matter of opinion, I suppose.” Buffy was starting to look like someone had poked her balloon and the air was leaking out. “I was not to be denied though and traipsed all over Rome until I found you.”
“You found me?” Buffy said weakly.
“I most certainly did.” Spike was playing this scene up to the hilt, he was just hoping it didn’t backfire on him. “I found you shaking your booty all over a dance floor with the greasiest grease ball ever to exist.” Buffy started to speak, but Spike held up his hand and went on, “I tried to get your attention, but you only had eyes for him.”
Buffy stared at him trying to gauge the right thing to say. “I…Spike, I…,” she stumbled over words trying to find an explanation.
Of course, Spike failed to mention that he was there with Angel and they were actually on a job for Wolfram & Hart…and that Peaches went and started a brawl so there was no chance to connect with her, and while he knew it was cruel, in the game of life and love you can’t always play fair. Evil afterall.
He let her squirm a bit and then reached out, grabbed her hand and pulled her to him in a tender hug and rubbed his nearly ever-present erection against her and said, “Tell you what, Slayer. You really will consider the matter of my error in timing in getting back to you closed, and I will try not to think about “he who shall not be named” having his hands and what-all else all over your beautiful little body.” Spike was satisfied that he won this poker hand.
Then Buffy threw down an ace. She cocked her head and said, “You’re right Spike. We do need to put all these things to rest. Just need to get a couple of things straight.” She ground her groin against his. “I’m forgiving you for letting me think you were truly dead for two years.”
Now it was Spike’s turn to look wary. “…for letting me cry myself to sleep every night and wish myself dead so that I could be with you.”
He was beginning to understand he might have made a teensy mistake. “For fighting at Angel’s side all that time when you so completely hated him and for not coming to fight at my side when for all you knew I could have been facing another apocalypse.”
This was so not good. “and you’ll forgive me for letting a slippery lothario spend gobs of money on me and take me to see wonderful things all over the world and stay in the finest hotels and inns and dress me in the most beautiful and expensive clothes and NEVER TOUCH ANY PART OF ME BUT MY HAND, and then, rarely.”
Shit! He overplayed his hand and now he was cleaned out! He started thinking about letting go of Buffy and protecting his nose.
He decided to take a chance, “Buffy…now, I know you very well….and I know you are a woman with…um…needs. You really went all that time without having him…um… touch you? I may hate the bastard, but I have to concede that he might be pleasing to a feminine eye in a slimy sort of way.”
First Buffy’s face turned a kind of pink and then deepened to almost purple. She ground her teeth so hard her jaw twitched. “Arrrrgh!”
Next thing, Spike was on the floor clutching his bits wishing she punched him in the nose. It never occurred to him that she would knee him.
“Stupid fucking vampire….like I could ever do that with ANYONE after you,” she said as she stormed off into the bedroom and slammed the door.
~~~
Giles was almost cheerful as he wiped the crumbs from his toast and jam off the table. His cottage was quiet. No overnight houseguests. It was a brilliant October morning, so brilliant that he decided to walk to the Administration Building. He solemnly chastised himself; admitting that he really should walk it every day. A brisk two-mile walk in the morning was not unreasonable and would be good for him.
He realized gleefully that it would play right into Mrs. Reed’s little joke. She had the secretaries all thinking of him as the typical stodgy English gentleman and teasing him about it. He would just tell them he was taking a morning constitutional. That ought to keep them going for weeks. He smiled as he stepped out of the door and locked it behind him. He liked giving them fodder for delight. It never interfered with their work and it was certainly good for morale.
As he strolled along, he wondered how Buffy and Spike were making out….ooh, poor choice of words.
How they were doing…then his thoughts considered what they were doing and decided to think about something else…evidently thinking about them at all just now would only lead to thoughts he never wanted to have. He considered Buffy the daughter he never had and to think of her with the vampire ….ooh …again! He would think of something else…
It was a beautiful day and the sun was full up. Once he left his driveway most of the walk would not be shaded. No matter….but he was glad he wore a lighter jacket instead of one of his wools. What IS in this briefcase? Why is it so heavy? Maybe he should pare down what he brings home from now on, after all. He didn’t need everything with him at night.
MacGregor….he would think about what he was going to do about MacGregor.
It used to be so easy. Well, once he got over his rebellious period…then, it became easy….black and white anyway. Good guys in tweed suits and bad guys had fangs. Then the bad guys went all weird and came with souls…even fought for a soul. Insane. Nothing to do but accept them…and now he was sanctioning one living with his slayer.
Doomed. He was doomed.
By now perspiration was starting to run in rivulets down his back, fortunately there was a bit of a breeze so his face wasn’t dripping yet. Don’t want to see anyone and not look fit…need to set an example and all that.
Funny, he never realized that the Administration Building was up hill before. It might even be more than two miles, but he clocked it once. Hmmm, have to check the speedometer or whatever the thing is called that counts mileage…odometer… that’s right.
Maybe I’ll just stop and admire this garden for a moment….give me a chance to catch my breath.
MacGregor. Remarkably well educated. Never bitten a human yet he subsists only on human blood. Damned clever. I could certainly use the help. Of course, I couldn’t let the other members of the Council know. They never understood the alliances with Angel and Spike…to find out that I’ve found another “good” vampire would be too much for them to handle.
Oh good, there’s a bench there under that tree. I’ll sit for a minute.
Binnemon. What a disappointment he turned out to be, but here we go again, another remarkably clever vampire. If it weren’t for MacGregor, I dare say it would be a very long time before he and his minions were found out. Now I’ve got to think of what to do about that. Good Lord, my entire staff of night guards is vampires. This is a nightmare. I can’t let this information get out. There would be a panic among the girls….the rest of the council would shut the school down.
Hmmmm, wouldn’t it be nice if someone came driving by. I could say that I was walking because there was a problem with my car…no one needs to know that I am in terrible shape. He took out his hanky and polished his glasses that had steamed up.
This wasn’t a good start to the day.
He trudged on working his problems out as he walked. He found that the more he concentrated on the problems the less he thought about the walk, his stride evened out, he relaxed and he began to enjoy himself. By the time he reached his office he was invigorated albeit very moist and met Mrs. Reed with a cheerful smile, “Good morning, Adele.”
She looked surprised at his chipper mood, “Good morning to you, sir,” she said returning the smile.
Yes, I think it is going to be a good day after all.
“You’ve got quite a pile of correspondence to go through and ….let me see…yes, five…no… six calls to return before you start the business of the day.” Her voice was cheery.
Maybe not.
~~~
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